My husband and daughter always ignored me, so I left quietly. Then they began to panic…
My name is Mary. Im thirty years old, working as a clerk at an identification company, and until recently, I thought my life with Marcus and his daughter Poppy was the “new family” Id always dreamed of.
Marcus is nine years older than me. He was divorced when we met, raising Poppy alone after his ex-wife gave up custody and disappeared. Poppy was twelve thenstylish, with bright eyes and surprisingly polite when Marcus first introduced us.
Nice to meet you. Im Poppy. Thanks for looking after Dad.
Her cheerfulness eased my nervous hands. I was braced for rejection, but instead, she seemed genuinely happy I was there.
I thought: Shes alone, without a mother. Maybe I could be that person.
A year later, Marcus proposed. My parents hesitatedwho wouldnt, when the man already had a daughter?but convinced by my determination, they gave their blessing. I married Marcus and moved into the flat where he lived with Poppy.
At first, everything was smooth. Poppy even called me “Mum.” Marcus was affectionate. We had dinners together, watched comedy shows. I thought the story was writing itself.
But as months passed, tiny cracks appeared.
One evening after dinner, Poppy left her plate on the table and flopped onto the sofa with her phone.
Poppy, clear your plate. Youre old enough.
She rolled her eyes. Ugh, seriously? Mum, cant you just do it?
I froze. No. Youre in secondary school. You need to learn to take care of yourself.
Stop nagging! Youre so annoying.
Marcus took her side. Dont be so harsh, Mary. Shes still a child. You should just tidy up.
My face burned. Im not treating her differently because shes not mine. I want her to grow up.
But the seed was planted. From then on, Poppy resisted every little request. Marcus enabled her. Chores, shopping, cleaningslowly, it all became my job.
When I tried to reasonWere a family; we should work togetherMarcus dismissed me: Housework is a womans job. Poppy sneered, Youre such a cold mum.
Even though I worked full-time, they treated me like a maid.
Then school problems arose. Poppy was fourteen, needing to pass entrance exams for a prestigious private grammar school. She was bright but lazy, spending afternoons scrolling on her phone instead of studying.
Poppy, you need to revise. Sixth form will be harder.
She scoffed. Shut up. Youre not my real mum anyway.
Marcus chimed in, Dont pressure her. Shell manage. Shes dependable.
We argued fiercely. The more I pushed, the colder Marcus grew. Sometimes he came home late, muttering about work. I suspected he was avoiding me.
Tension filled the flat. I considered divorce but hesitatedwould I disappoint my parents now, after convincing them this was right?
Then, one morning, everything changed.
Good morning, Poppy. Breakfast is ready.
She walked past me without a word.
Poppy?
Nothing.
That evening, I called Marcus. Hey, theres something we need to talk about
Silence. He didnt even turn his head.
Day after day, they ignored me. Greetings, questions, attempts to talknothing. I was invisible. They chatted between themselves, but the moment I spoke, their eyes glazed over.
I cooked, cleaned, launderednot even a thank you. On weekends, they went out together, leaving me alone in the flat I once called home.
I tried harderPoppys favourite roast, Marcuss lager in the fridge. Nothing. The silence pressed in like walls.
I cried in the shower where no one heard. Why?
The answer came by accident.
One evening, I came home early and heard voices from the half-open living room door.
Poppy giggled. Mums so clueless. The ignoring strategy is working. Shes quiet and still does everything.
Marcus laughed. Exactly. No more nagging, and she still pays the bills. Shes a useful housekeeper now.
Poppy cheered, Ill need more money for school soon. Mum can just work harder! Im youngI shouldnt have to do chores. This is perfect. Lets keep ignoring her.
My heart pounded. My husband and stepdaughterlaughing at how easily theyd turned me into a servant.
Heat rose in my chest. I bit my lip until it bled.
Id never forgive them.
The next morning, I tried once more: Good morning.
They ignored me. Poppy even clicked her tongue.
After they left, I packed my bags in silence. Took only essentials. Shut the door behind me without a note.
I went to my parents. Braced for their disappointment. Instead, Mum took my hand, tears in her eyes. Stay as long as you need. It must have been so hard.
Dad said sharply, You did your best. Thats enough.
Tears Id held for months burst free. For the first time in years, I felt seen.
Days later, my phone rang. Marcus. Against sense, I answered.
Where the hell are you? he shouted. How dare you leave? Youre her motherhave you no shame? Get home now!
I held the phone away, then spoke calmly. No, Marcus. Im not coming back. I want a divorce.
What rubbish? Stop this tantrum over a bit of ignoring! Were not divorcing.
He was panickingbecause without me, there was no maid.
I whispered, Lets divorce. Why dont you confess your affair?
Silence. Then: What what are you talking about?
But I knew. The mysterious call Id received was from Marcuss mistresss husband. He wasnt working late; he was dining with her. Sometimes he even took Poppy, lying to me. Once, Id heard Poppy sigh, Dads girlfriend is so pretty. I wish she were my mum.
I interrupted. Ill file for maintenance. And the flat isnt yours. Its mine. Dad bought it before we marriedits in my name. Ive already moved my things and put it up for sale. Yours and Poppys belongings? Sent to your parents. Good luck.
Silence hung.
Then Marcuss broken voice: Mary, please. Im sorry. I love only you. Forgive me.
But the words washed over me.
You and Poppy didnt want a wife or mother. You wanted a housemaid. Its over.
I hung up.
My husband and daughter always ignored me, so I left quietly. Then they began to panic…
Part Two
The divorce was swift once solicitors got involved. The facts were clear: Marcuss affair, his financial recklessness, his treatment of me. The mistresss husband filed his own suit. Their little romance left them buried in legal fees.
Marcus drained his savings paying child support and compensation. It wasnt enough. He took loans.
Meanwhile, Marcus and Poppy were evicted from my flat, sold within weeks. With the money, I bought a modest place near my officequiet, sunlit, filled only with things I chose.
Marcus and Poppy ended up in a dingy council flat across town.
At first, I felt nothing but relief. Then the calls started again.
Mary, please. Lets reconcile. Poppy wants to apologise too.
But his voice held desperation, not love. He wanted the stability Id providedmoney, chores, silence.
No, I said flatly. You once told me I was nothing without you. Now you seeyoure nothing without me.
I hung up.
Months passed.
Rumours reached me. Marcuss debts grew. Poppy attended a state school instead of the private one shed bragged about. At first, she acted superior, but her arrogance isolated her. Friends left. She spent more time at home. Neighbours complained about the smell from their flat.
One day, Marcus called again, voice ragged.
Mary, please. I cant do this. Poppy wont leave her room. She screams at me. The place is a mess. Theyll evict us. Please come back. For Poppy, if not for me.
A pang of sadness hit me. Once, Id wanted to be Poppys mother. Id tried.
But then I heard her voice: The ignoring strategy is working. Mums so clueless.
Shed mocked me to her father, treated me like rubbish.
No, I said. You made this. Live with it.
Mary
I hung up again.
The
